


My Bright Red Star

by Cry_Havoc



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Genderswap, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cry_Havoc/pseuds/Cry_Havoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I want you to fuck me.” Ray’s voice is strained, but his face is determined when he raises his head and glares right into Brad’s eyes. “I want it so bad, Brad. You haven’t touched me in weeks.”</i>
</p>
<p>Brad/girl!Ray. Pregnant and horny fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Bright Red Star

**Author's Note:**

> For the Oorah Porn Fest.
> 
> Samescenes's Prompt: _Brad/girl!Ray. Pregnant and horny fic._

Ray’s lying sprawled across the couch when Brad gets home. The loose grey T-shirt Ray snagged off him a while back is rucked up high, and for that fraction of a second that Brad’s head is not in the game, the sight of Ray’s pregnant swollen belly and heavy breasts shocks him all over again. 

He’s lounging in the long golden ray of the afternoon sun, relaxed as a cat, and twice as devious, one arm propping him up on the cushions while the other hand pinches and teases at his dark nipples. Soft gasps fall loud from Ray’s mouth as he plays with himself, nipples getting more sensitive as his pregnancy progresses. Lately, Brad barely has to brush his fingers over them to make Ray shudder all over. He imagines kneeling at Ray’s side and sucking them into his mouth, teasing Ray until he’s wound up tight. Maybe he could make Ray come just from that.

Ray’s eyes flicker open as Brad closes the door, narrowing to slits as his lips quirk up in a mischievous grin. Smelling trouble, Brad allows his daysack to slide to the floor with a heavy thump, bending to unlace his boots and give himself time to centre down a little.

“Come here,” Ray says as soon as Brad’s done, and it’s an order as clear as any Brad has ever received. He moves slowly towards the sofa, watching Ray shift a little, shoving his shirt up higher and arching his neck, a gesture of unconscious submission and need. “God, I’m so horny Brad,” he groans.

“You want me to get you off?” Brad asks softly, because so long as he doesn’t think about the fucked-up reality of the situation, Ray is the hottest thing he’s ever seen like this. Lazy days spent in the sun have turned his skin golden and soft, hair growing out into a soft pixie cut that accentuates Ray’s sharp little cheekbones. Brad’s palms itch to cup Ray’s jaw, to pull him down for endless soft kisses, just to pretend that this is all Ray has ever been. It’s a dangerous itch under his skin, hard to push away in the long dark hours of the night.

He moves down the sofa a little bit, fingers catching on the waistband of Ray’s yoga pants where they’re clinging to his hips. Ray’s new body is familiar now, Brad knows he can get him off in minutes, have Ray lazy and pliable and right where he wants him for the rest of the afternoon with a few careful swipes of his tongue.

“I want you to fuck me.” Ray’s voice is strained, but his face is determined when he raises his head and glares right into Brad’s eyes. “I want it so bad, Brad. You haven’t touched me in weeks.”  
It’s not quite true. Brad’s spent more than a few evenings in the past few weeks with his face between Ray’s thighs, Ray’s grabby hands clawing at Brad’s hair as he comes with obscene noises and trembling thighs. He has taken to sleeping in the spare room though, ever since Ray started to really show, too twitchy in his sleep these days, afraid of knocking Ray too hard, of hurting the baby. It’s too new, too fragile, too terrifying to think about for too long.

“Stop thinking.” Ray’s hand collides with Brad’s face, catching his jaw and turning it, so that Brad is forced to look Ray square in the eye. His cheeks are still flushed pink, need clear across his face, and Brad is tempted to throw caution to the wind and crawl up between Ray’s thighs, to take everything he wants and lose himself in it.

“Ray,” he breathes instead, trying for a warning tone, but even he can hear the shaky edge to the word. He knows it’s stupid to be this worried, knows that Ray is in no danger from him, and neither is the baby. But Ray isn’t technically a woman; he’s never supposed to have fallen pregnant. And Brad never really signed up to this.

“Brad.” Ray’s own voice is far more reasonable, serious in a way that Brad’s learned to trust over the difficult few months that have passed between them. He thumbs lightly over Brad’s cheek, unexpectedly tender and reassuring, grounding Brad in the knowledge that this is his Ray-Ray, female body or no. “Having a pussy doesn’t make me a pussy. Now stop sitting on the floor like a bitch and fuck me.”

“Poetic,” Brad taunts, but he can feel the corners of his mouth quirking up into something approaching a smile. 

Ray leads him to their bedroom and sprawls himself across the bed, the late afternoon sun dancing across his curves as he writhes against the sheets, a wanton display all for Brad. He slides his hands under the waistband of his sweats and turns his head away, groaning into the pillows. It makes Brad fumble the last few buttons on his shirt, watching the way Ray moves on the sheet as though his spine is liquid, new-found flexibility being put use in the filthiest ways.

Crawling up between Ray’s legs, Brad catches hold of Ray’s wrists, easing his hands out of the sweatpants and pinning them down by his sides, watching Ray’s breathing hitch as he stills against the sheets. It’s been a while since he’s had Ray like this, compliant and needy, willing to be spread out across the bed and fucked open slowly, tight and hot around Brad’s dick.

He takes his sweet time, peeling Ray’s sweats away and mouthing at the bright red girl-boxers that ride low on Ray’s hips. Getting Ray off with his tongue is one of Brad’s favourite things to do, but Ray’s hands are insistent, pushing at Brad’s head and arching his back, humping the empty air until Brad hooks his fingers into Ray’s knickers and drags them down his hips.

“C’mon,” Ray groans, lifting his legs out of Brad’s grip and kicking his knickers away. There are lines of slickness down his thighs, his pussy already swollen and glistening with just how much Ray needs it, like he’s been waiting all afternoon.

“Just look at you,” Brad purrs, “I don’t even have to work you open. I could just slide right in and you’d take me.”

Ray doesn’t whimper, but the sound he makes is pretty close to it. He sits up quickly, using his momentum to roll Brad onto his back, hands digging into his shoulders to keep him down. Brad just goes with it, too distracted by Ray’s sharp little nails dragging down his chest to fight the movement. It’s almost a shock when Ray’s fingers wrap around Brad’s cock and guide him in.

“Oh,” Ray breathes out slow as he slides all the way down, slick and warm all around Brad’s cock. His head falls back as he shifts his hips a little, porn-star routine lost in his frantic need to get off.

“Easy Ray, slow down.” Ray whines for real as Brad grabs hold of his hips, shifting up the bed to change the angle, his back propped up a little on the pillows. It pushes him even deeper into Ray, every subtle shift of his hips grinding them together, that sweet pressure on Ray’s clit that makes his face light up like Christmas. It’s about the only thing that keeps him properly quiet.

Ray hums to himself as he grinds down, soft noises that make Brad want to tug him down by his neck, drink the noise straight from his lips. He’s gorgeous like this though, eyes closed as his hips rise and fall, rocking his clit down hard into Brad’s pelvis, each pass driving him higher and higher, skin flushed pink in the afternoon sun. Brad coaxes him on, running his hands up the soft skin of Ray’s sides, fingertips grazing over the gentle swell of Ray’s belly, content to let Ray’s urgency pull them both over the edge.

It doesn’t take long for Ray to fall into a rhythm, urgent rub and press as he arches his back, catches Brad’s hands up to his breasts and rides Brad in earnest, selfish and knowing. It’s the hottest thing Brad knows. He can feel his own orgasm building low in his spine, sweet ache of not quite enough as Ray concentrates on his clit, grinding down hard and dirty, slickness spreading between them until they’re slippery with it. Ray’s nipples are red and tight under Brad’s hands, and Brad adjusts his hold, scrapes his thumb-nails across the hard nubs again and again in counterpoint to Ray’s grinding.

Ray’s fingers wrap around Brad’s wrists, holding his hands in place as he rubs himself frantically against Brad’s pelvis, orgasm crashing over him in waves that Brad can feel, internal muscles clenching and convulsing around Brad’s dick, pulling him over the edge even as they leave Ray shaking and weak, collapsing against Brad’s hands and down onto his chest.

“Mmm,” Ray drawls, rolling his hips slowly to catch the last few aftershocks of orgasm, leaving Brad spent and warm all over. His face fits comfortably into the hollow of Brad’s neck now, and Brad pretends not to notice him nuzzling, cat-like, into the space. He settles instead for running his hands down Ray’s flanks and thighs, content to lie still and get his breath back, basking in the afterglow and the sinking afternoon sun.

“So,” Ray murmurs, and Brad can hear the grin in his voice, “How soon can we go again?”

END


End file.
